


Lazarus

by Em3kitty, PrinceIsaiah



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Biblical References, Blood and Gore, Everyone Needs A Hug, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, So much angst, Sorry not sorry if I make you cry, Zombies, a gay tragedy that somehow manages to still be kinda cute, constantine's a clutz and fucks up real bad later, coremy is cute and completely took over my life help it's holding me hostage, experimenting in the form of a multichapter apocalypse au, fun for the whole family, guess nyc does sleep after all. if you kill everyone in it that is., ise does genocide, ise tortures his children. per usual., lots of death, prepare for pain, real. bad., seriously do not read if you can't handle graphic injuries/blood, when you get stabbed in the leg and you can't run so you just let the gay thoughts get to you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 22:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em3kitty/pseuds/Em3kitty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceIsaiah/pseuds/PrinceIsaiah
Summary: It was a eerily quiet morning in December. The snow had just fallen, hadn’t yet turned into the dark slush it normally would be in New York. It covered everything in white and made the city look like a glowing utopia.It was the morning that everything went to hell.





	Lazarus

**Author's Note:**

> this took two weeks to write. hope it and the other chapters will fuck you up as much as it did with me.
> 
> Beta’d by Em3Kitty

Phillip tapped a hand against his thigh, muttering along to the song he had playing.

He might have gone off of the road, had his hand on the wheel not moved to turn down the radio. His ears rang for a few moments before he pulled over to see what was happening.

The typical sounds from an emergency alert that had startled him and disrupted his music had stopped, and a voice had started speaking.

**“The following message is transmitted to at the request of the federal government of the United States of America, and in cooperation with the New York Center for Disease Control.”**

“Disease control? The hell.” Phillip grumbled, noticing a few others had pulled over as well.

**“Local authorities have issued a warning for the entirety of New York City, and immediate surrounding areas. An unknown virus has begun to spread throughout the region and a quarantine will be implemented within the next hour. The first reports of the virus have begun to emerge from the more heavily populated and busy areas such as Manhattan, Brooklyn, and west Queens. We advise residents to avoid these areas as much a possible.”**

Well, that wouldn’t work. Phillip was headed to Manhattan. He couldn’t just turn around and go back to Brooklyn, either.

**“Less populated areas have begun to feel the effects of the infection as well. Currently, the general area of New York City is not safe. Symptoms of the virus including, but  not limited to: nausea, vomiting, aching of the joints, limb stiffness, fatigue, fever, cough, drying and clouding of the eyes, seizures, cell death in certain parts of the body- starting in extremities, severe head and body aches, fluid draining, and any flu like symptoms. After prolonged illness, those infected fall into a brief period of unconsciousness, and when awake, will become highly unpredictable.”**

**“Authorities are attempting to control the situation. Within the hour, the city will be quarantined. All those able to, leave the city** **_._ ** **Those unable,** **_avoid contact with the infected at all costs.”_ **

Well, fuck.

 

* * *

 

Phillip had called Barnum immediately after the message seemed to be over, frantically dialing the number he hoped he’d remembered correctly.

He’d answered near instantly, and a quick conversation about the alert followed. They both received it, Barnum having gotten it through a message on his phone.

Barnum practically ordered him to leave the city as soon as he could, where didn’t matter, as long as he was out of the city, so that was what Phillip did.

“Guess you won’t be getting your top hat back, then.” Phineas didn’t laugh at his partner’s joke, hanging up abruptly.

He set his phone down on the seat beside him and looked up. Someone was standing in the middle of the road. Phillip abruptly stopped his car, quickly unclipping his seatbelt, he stepped out, taking his keys with him, to avoid his car being stolen.

“Hey! You alright?” He called out to the person, who quickly turned toward him. Phillip realized something was wrong when he saw the long gash on the side of the person’s face, and the dazed look they had.

The stranger made an odd noise and began shuffling toward him, eventually breaking into an uneven run. Phillip, somewhat panicked, backed away, frantic to get back into his car. The person reached him moments later, hitting the window. Phillip shakily tried to start his car only to realize, _he’d dropped his keys._  

Quickly throwing together a plan, he leaped into action, moving to the passenger side of the car and getting out.

After hitting the top of his car a few times, he’d gotten the Infected’s attention. It seemed to be distracted quite easily and while it climbed onto the top of his car, Phillip made a run for his keys, quickly grabbing them and getting back into his car, the Infected’s hand brushing the tips of  his hair. The Infected had rolled onto the hood and was trying to get to him through his windshield, and as he started his car and immediately started driving, it tumbled off.

When he was finally free of the infected, Phillip allowed himself a moment to catch his breath for the first time since the beginning of the encounter as he watched the infected disappear from the rearview mirror.

 

* * *

 

“No.” A soldier told them, after telling the people previous them where they needed to go to get out, to get to safety. “I’m sorry sir, it’s too late to leave. All borders are now closed.”

Phineas was shocked into silence, while Charity spoke up, for the both of them. “We have a _child._ She can’t stay here.” The little girl clinging to her mother had not the slightest idea what was going on, but her parents’ obvious stress reflected on her.

“I’m sorry.” The man repeated, an awfully blank expression contradicting the apology. “I hope you and your family get through this.” And with that, the soldier walked away from them, away from pleading families now trapped within a quarantined city, with a virus none knew the severity of quite yet.

Within the next few minutes, a chill settled in the air, as if a blanket of cold had been placed over the city, cloaking the sun as it settled.

The drive home- the drive to their _other_ home -was silent after Phineas called his partner to tell him the unfortunate news, that they wouldn’t be leaving the city. He saw people stumbling along the sidewalks, some running after each other before stopping abruptly to examine the other and walk away. Though most of the civilians they’d seen were all similar in a certain sense, with the odd way they acted.

Rain had gently started to fall by the time they got to the museum-turned-circus. It wasn’t much, though enough that Helen insisted on bringing her umbrella out of the car. Neither Phineas nor Charity told her she couldn’t. Though they kept her close as they entered the building, as to avoid the strange people, if there were any about.

As soon as they walked in, Phineas was bombarded with hugs and exclamations of relief. Everyone was glad he was alright, and he them.

The only ones he didn’t see immediately upon arrival was Constantine & Jeremy, the troupes resident “ _Tattooed Man_ ” and “ _Elephant-Skinned Man_ ” and Anne & WD, the trapeze artist siblings, although that was somewhat expected. The pairs were always seen near each other, for very different reasons. When the former two saw him, Jeremy waved and Constantine glanced up, calling out in French before Jeremy stole his attention once again.  

Having another sweeping glance of the arena, he still couldn’t see the siblings. Quickly asking around, he was assured by the rest of the troupe that they were at least in the building. That was good enough for Phineas.

“Phin.” Charity lightly nudged him, motioning in Phillip’s direction, where he was standing and talking with Lettie, their dearly beloved _Bearded Lady_ , once he’d turned to her.

Phineas absentmindedly nodded to his wife as he started towards the younger man. “Mind if I steal him for a while?”

Lettie shook her head, “Go on, hon.”

Before Phin took Phil off to a separate room to discuss what to do, Lettie had called out to the group.

“Grab as much as you can, we need to create barricades. We’re closing off all entrances to stay safe.” A few people immediately did as she said, going off to other rooms and coming back with wood and such.

The troupe made casual conversation with each other, laughing, joking, and enjoying what time they had with each other as all hell was beginning to break loose outside.

 

* * *

 

It was another five minutes before anyone truly saw what was going on outside. Constantine was getting wood to put over a window when he was stopped by Nea, the _Golden Lady_ , running over to him, clearly distressed.

“Con. We need help.”

He hastily put the wood down and followed her over to where a few members of the group were huddled around a window. Squeezing through to the middle of the small crowd, where Jeremy was holding back someone who looked like they’d been dead for hours with a plank.

“Both of you, be careful.” He heard from Nea, and when he looked back to Jeremy, he had to assist with stopping the board from falling when the rotting person decided to throw their entire body against it.

It took both Constantine and Jeremy’s strength to keep the stranger from climbing through the window, and Deng, the knife thrower, to get the wood secured over the window.

Once the nails were firmly in the wood, Jeremy gently nudged Constantine away from the window while one of the Infected remained, persistently trying to get into the building.

“I’m getting my weapon.” Deng crossed her arms and looked over at Constantine. “I suggest you do the same.”

As she went out of the room, a few other members of the troupe glanced to him questioningly.

“What kind of weapon is she referring to?” Jeremy quietly muttered to him. Neglecting to answer, Constantine carefully took his hand guiding him to the little corner that he had claimed for himself what felt like so long ago, ignoring the confused glance he got.

“Con.”

“ _Suis moi simplement_.” He instinctively responded in his native language, and though Jeremy didn’t understand exactly what he said, he understood the general meaning.

Jeremy watched as Constantine stopped in their corner and shuffled their possessions around, moving things out of the way before pulling a black object from behind a box.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It may be.” He unclipped the sheathe at the bottom and pulled a machete from it.

“ _Holy shit.”_

Constantine snickered as he held the blade up, letting what minimal light reached the corner scatter from the reflection on the blade, creating a multitude of colors.

“Why do you have that? Literally what is the purpose?”

“It has a purpose _now_.” He offered it out to his friend, who carefully took it.

Jeremy looked over it for a few moments, “Yea. Sure. But what the hell were you thinking buying this?”

Constantine simply shrugged. “Mainly that it was pretty. How I decide to keep things around sometimes.”

“Oh, what a coincidence. That’s exactly what I do. Must be why you’re still here, then.” Jeremy cheekily grinned down at him, receiving a disapproving look from Constantine.

“City’s being quarantined and you’re _still_ a flirt. _Trés bien_.”

Jeremy playfully glared at him, “Come on. Let’s get back before Deng decides to go outside and defend the troupe singlehandedly.”

“Right.”

The two went back and joined the group, most focused on Deng. Holding a handgun, she motioned for Constantine to come over once she saw him. He glanced at Jeremy before walking forward.

“Constantine and I will be the _guardians_ of the group. We each have a weapon, and we hope everyone remembers that if they’re needed.” Deng held up her pistol, and after a certain look from her he pulled the weapon up.

“This is a .45 caliber Colt. Constantine’s weapon is a _flashy_ barong machete.” She motioned to the iridescent-colored blade, “Clearly each are for different uses. Please don’t attempt to use them, unless you know exactly what you’re doing with them. Any questions?”

Lettie spoke up first, “Where the hell did you two get those?”

“Constantine bought his in France, I believe. I got-“

Deng was cut off by a loud bang at the two main doors. The whole of the group turned toward it, half with a frightened look on their faces. Deng sighed and went over to see what it was, lightly waving Constantine forward. He followed, adjusting his grip on his weapon.

“Hello?” Deng tested, close to the doors.

“So there are people in there.” A stranger’s voice  came from the other side, though it was hushed, as if speaking to others.

“What do you want? We aren’t going to let you in, if you’re seeking shelter.”

“Ah, that’s not what we want, darling. Why don’t you come out here, we could have a little chat.” This was a different person. There were at least two people in the group, then.

“We’re talking just fine right now; what do you want?”

There was the sound of muttering followed by the dragging of feet against the concrete.. “Supplies. All of what you’ve got.”

“What makes you think I’d just give you everything I have?”

There was a snicker outside, and Constantine was jerked backwards, away from where he was listening to the conversation.

He was led off to an area away from others, by who he assumed to be his tall companion.

“Con, the people outside have guns.” Jeremy seemed genuinely nervous, with the way his speech was rushed, which was certainly rare for him.

“Come again?”

“Rifles and shit. One of them has a bag that probably has other things in it.”

“ _Ça va_. They can’t get in. Nothing will happen regardless of what they have.”

Jeremy looked toward the rest of the troupe, his expression rapidly dropping from mildly concerned to full-blown panic.

Barnum and Phillip had returned, although everyone seemed to be heading somewhere.

Julius, the _Golden Boy_ , ran from a room nearby and saw them, calling out, “They’ve torched the place! We need to leave! _Now_!”

**Author's Note:**

> arson at its finest.


End file.
